


seven.

by bitterheart



Category: Fate/Grand Order
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blood, Frottage, Kissing, Other, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 11:46:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17766209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitterheart/pseuds/bitterheart
Summary: The game is simple and Gilgamesh is its champion.





	seven.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thimble](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thimble/gifts).



> alternate title, _please look at my boner while we're fighting_.
> 
> for bent, who once tweeted about wanting modern gilkidu in seven minutes in hell, in which they fight instead of making out.

It was a simple game. Seven minutes. Two people. One room. No weapons allowed. 

Gilgamesh had to take his rings off, a pile of gold left on the table just by the door. Everyone knew better than to touch them while they were unattended. There was a reason that Gilgamesh was the reigning champion of this game, and it was common knowledge that he didn't even fight with his full strength. There was no point, when there wasn't anyone worth the effort. His opponents all went down easily enough regardless and that was the only thing that mattered.

Tonight, though, something felt different. Like something electric in the atmosphere, Gilgamesh couldn't help but feel that there was the promise of something more hanging in the air even though he couldn't quite decipher its meaning. It was there in the fact that there were more people crowded around the door this time. A fight like this had no real spectators but it still drew people in so that they could stand on the other side of the door and listen to the fight. Gilgamesh knew how to work his audience, even without them being able to see what he was doing. Very few of them were willing to volunteer to find out for themselves and that just meant that Gilgamesh had to encourage their imaginations along as he fought. 

As someone born to be the centre of attention, Gilgamesh had no trouble with that at all.

Opening the door, Gilgamesh looked into the room and found his opponent was already waiting for him in the darkness. They were standing far enough inside the room that Gilgamesh could only vaguely make out their outline. Whoever they were, they didn't look particularly threatening. Gilgamesh shut the door behind him, plunging them both into complete darkness, letting his eyes adjust to the lack of light as he tried to make out the outline of the flowing dress, or the long hair. 

"Start!" a voice called from beyond the door, followed by the distinctive beep of a timer.

Gilgamesh grinned. "I hope you're worth my—"

His opponent didn't give him the time to finish speaking, already stepping forward to punch him across the face. Gilgamesh grunted with surprise, putting his arm up to block the next hit. Whoever he was fighting, they were light on their feet, already out of reach by the time Gilgamesh reached for them. Gilgamesh listened for the swish of fabric to give them away but they were silent, blending into the darkness despite their pale clothing. Gilgamesh stumbled forward in surprise when he felt them behind him, spinning as he went. 

His silent opponent wasn't the only one light on their feet. Gilgamesh swept his leg out in a low kick, satisfied when it connected. A hand grabbed for his shoulder as his opponent tried to stabilise themselves and Gilgamesh grabbed for it, marvelling at how thin it was, how fine their bones felt in his firm grip. 

It left him unprepared for the other hand, punching Gilgamesh in the nose hard enough that he saw stars. He bore the pain, knowing that he needed to keep both hands free and his wits about him if he wanted to hold onto his winning streak. Gilgamesh breathed out through his nose, squaring himself up and settling into his stance.

He was rewarded with a quiet chuckle that came from behind him. He turned to face the source of the sound, and his opponent laughed again, their voice surprisingly soft as they said, "Now you're finally taking me seriously."

"Looks like you _are_ worth my time after all," Gilgamesh replied. "I'm—"

"Gilgamesh," his opponent scolded gently. "Don't get complacent yet."

At the very last moment, Gilgamesh stepped back to avoid the kick to his shin. His opponent was too agile; if Gilgamesh was going to win this, he would need to use his strength. He grabbed out, fingers closing around his opponent's arm, and dragged them to the floor.

"Oh," they said from beneath him, sounding both winded and pleased. "Aren't you clever?"

And with that, they rolled over to pin him between their knees and punched him again. Gilgamesh couldn't help the pained laugh that escaped from his lips. He grabbed for both of their wrists, holding them still. If Gilgamesh were a lesser person, he would have felt embarrassed at how hard he was and how obvious it had to be in this position. Instead, he made no efforts to hide what couldn't be hidden and focused on keeping his opponent's wrists still instead. 

"You're good," he murmured. "Good enough to be my equal."

"Is that what you're calling it?" they asked him, very deliberately fitting their hips against his as they leaned over him. Gilgamesh could feel breath on his lips. "When you're the one pinned to the floor and I've hit you more times than you've hit me?"

"I have your hands," Gilgamesh pointed out.

"Maybe," they conceded. "But that's all you have."

They headbutted him, hard enough that Gilgamesh was sure he would have broken his nose if he didn't think to turn away in time. As it was, he was sure there would be an angry bruise along the side of his cheek later. He'd bitten himself in the process and his mouth was full of blood, and it wasn't until he sat up to spit it out that he realised he'd let go of both of his opponent's wrists. 

He went still as he felt a hand grab his chin but he wasn't expecting the kiss that came after. 

"At least tell me your name," Gilgamesh murmured into the space between their lips.

He felt the other's lips curve into a smile, as if they knew he'd never once asked for a name when playing this game before. "Enkidu." 

"Enkidu," he repeated, committing it to memory as if he were claiming it as part of himself. 

"Our seven minutes aren't over yet," Enkidu reminded him, and it didn't matter that Gilgamesh had never seen their face. He could still imagine their smile, the fondness in their eyes, like they were both put on this earth for the sole purpose of meeting each other.

Gilgamesh rolled them over before Enkidu could anticipate it and punched them in the mouth. He relished their soft grunt of pain, just as he did with their gasp of pleasure as Gilgamesh slowly rolled his hips. 

"However long we have left," Gilgamesh murmured, stroking his thumb along the blood on Enkidu's lips, "it's not enough for half of what I want to do to you." 

Enkidu smiled, letting Gilgamesh trace his thumb along the curve of it before they spoke. "Do you want to fight me or fuck me?"

"Both," Gilgamesh replied honestly. "As much as each other."

Enkidu laughed, pulling Gilgamesh down into their arms and kissing him. "Good. Shall we get out of here?"

Gilgamesh kissed down Enkidu's neck. "I don't see why we should. I don't care about this game any more and if anyone wants to walk in on us, that's their problem and not ours."

He half-expected Enkidu to protest because few were as shameless as he was. Instead, Enkidu lifted their dress with a soft whisper of fabric against skin, guiding Gilgamesh's hand to their bare skin. Gilgamesh kissed them harder as he traced the outline of their erection through their underwear. He pulled the material down, feeling Enkidu arch beneath him at the direct contact. 

Enkidu reached for him in return, undoing his pants just enough to reach into them. Gilgamesh sighed into their next kiss, straddling Enkidu so he could wrap his fingers around both of them and stroke them together. Enkidu let out the most wonderful moan, their fingers digging into Gilgamesh's thighs. 

The door opened to someone's voice. "The timer's up! You were a lot quieter this time Gilgamesh—oh. _Oh_." 

Gilgamesh and Enkidu both laughed as the door was slammed shut again. With another kiss, Gilgamesh began to stroke them both again. Enkidu's breath caught in their throat as they dug their fingers harder against Gilgamesh. 

"Gil—"

"It's too dark for me to watch you come," Gilgamesh murmured, focusing his efforts on Enkidu solely. "At least let me hear you."

Enkidu did, as loud and shameless as Gilgamesh hoped they would be as they came. He followed soon after, with Enkidu stroking him to completion, the two of them collapsing against each other with a longer, deeper kiss this time. 

"I hope you don't think I'm done with you just yet," Gilgamesh murmured, as they finally pulled apart. 

"Nowhere near it, I hope," Enkidu replied, wiping them both with their dress, not caring that they were dirtying it. Linking their fingers with Gilgamesh's, they pulled him to his feet. "The rest might be more comfortable in a bed, though." 

They stepped into the light together, giving GIlgamesh his first proper look at Enkidu. He smiled, stroking his fingers through their long hair and bringing a strand of it to his lips, kissing it.

"You're gentler than I expected," Enkidu hummed, though Gilgamesh was sure that anyone else would disagree.

"And you're tougher than I'd expect from you," Gilgamesh replied, putting his rings back on before draping an arm around Enkidu's shoulders, holding them close as they walked past their embarrassed audience. "As to be expected from my equal."


End file.
